travel

Monday various

Back from Boston

Oh, the day that I’ve had.

It started with the first truly nice weather we had all the time I was in Boston, yesterday’s quite pleasant evening excluded. The sun-dappled river made a lovely, if perhaps at times a bit too sun-dappled and bright, view from our exhibit booth. I spent the day selling books, more or less the same as I’d done the days before, and then started cleaning up a little before three o’clock.

Clean-up went well. We’ve started bringing only a display copy or two of most of our books — and offering free international shipping in exchange for not being able to take the copy with you. It saves us considerably on shipping, and on sending books back that might just get pulped. Today, our last day at the conference, I was selling everything left on the table, display copy or not, so in the end I definitely had fewer boxes going back (some to Kentucky, some to New York) than were delivered. Which is almost always a good thing. Our shipping carrier showed up early, while I was still boxing everything up, and then the hotel staff they sent to collect the boxes — two of the same who’d been really helpful on Wednesday night finding our books — started hovering. But I got everything boxed up and ready to go by about 3:30, and a quick cab ride later had me at the airport.

Where I proceeded to wait around for several hours. You can follow the whole sorry story on Twitter (albeit in reverse), about the ground delays and the confused announcements and the fellow passengers with whom I first sympathized and then grew to see as impatient jerks. It was a long day. I think I slept on the plane — I must have slept on the plane — but I still feel pretty tired. And, woe is me, there’s no episode of Kojak here to console me.

I did, however, learn just this morning that I was accepted for a self-directed writing residency at the Banff Centre in Alberta this fall. Heather‘s talked about it so much, I just couldn’t let her have all the fun there. But seriously, I’m looking forward to it. There’s still a lot of planning to do for it, come September, and the last thing I want to do right this minute is look at an another airline itinerary, but the Centre seems like a really great place to develop my writing, enjoy the “powerful mountain setting,” and be inspired. I’m excited and really pleased to have the opportunity. Plus, you know, getting to meet Heather before that apocalypse she keeps reading about for her graduate classes actually happens. That should be nice.

Right now, I foresee sleep in my near future. It’s Daylight Savings Time this weekend, which is an abomination upon the earth. (Except in fall when it’s a quite pleasant extra hour of sleep.) So all the more reason to turn in a little early, I suppose.

All in all, I think it was a successful conference. I won’t know until at least Monday, when I add up the tally, just how many books we sold — and some people will take our catalog or order online; we offer the discount for thirty days after a conference, too. But I think we sold more than a few, and I think my boss met with a few key authors for some good projects going forward. I didn’t get to see much of Boston, or even much of Cambridge — and both ways my flights were delayed — but I’m glad I went.

Dancing about editing

All morning, there was little doubt in my mind that today was, in fact, a Monday. It had all the earmarks of one, all the dreary little annoyances that go into making it the quintessentially least fun day of the week. For one, it was raining. Then, when I got to my station, they announced a track change — only to announce another change, back to the original track, after we’d all climbed up and back down the stairs that the divide the two. They’ve done this before — they meaning the Long Island Railroad — as recently as this past November. Switching us back and forth, in the cold and the rain of the early morning, and all the while claiming to be running “on time” when in fact running five to ten minutes late.

When I got to Penn Station, I had to wait in line to purchase my monthly ticket for March, since for some strange reason that starts tomorrow. (We’re sure this isn’t a leap year?) There had been some mix-up with my new transit program at work: I get a card with the full amount, only it was just under the full amount, so the machines at the station wouldn’t recognize it as valid. I got this squared away on Friday (after I got home, to my own station where you can only by daily tickets), but they couldn’t increase the amount on my card until next month. So I had to wait on line for a teller, give him twenty-four dollars in cash, and then pay the balance with what was on the card.

I naturally picked the slowest line. But at least next month I can just use the card at the machine at my convenience. (After the twentieth, of course, when the new monthly tickets become available.)

Anyway, after that it was just a normal day at work. I did finally manage to have my job performance review with my boss, and I think it went well. Overall, I quite like my job, and overall I think they’re happy to have me. We discussed the projects I’ve been working on, the ones currently in the mix, and a few new texts that might benefit from developmental work in the near future. With luck, my red pen (and occasionally blue pencil) and I should be pleasantly busy for the foreseeable future.

Though I’m sorry to say, I didn’t follow Heather‘s advice and give my performance review in interpretive dance. An hour’s talk with my boss was, though pleasant, nerve-wracking enough. And trust me, I’ve seen the both of us dance, and it would not have gone over well.

Taking off on Wednesday is just weird.

I woke up at six this morning, only to learn that, yes indeed, we’d had a freezing rain overnight, and it had played havoc with the morning commute. The Long Island Railroad was running weekend hours all morning — albeit at the regular, weekday morning peak fares — and at my station, weekend hours means no more than one train every hour. They were also predicting ten to fifteen-minute delays, which itself usually means twenty to thirty-minute delays. So, after much deliberating, I decided to send an e-mail around to my group at work and take a vacation day.

After that, the day was actually fine, especially after I discovered that Groundhog Day was available for streaming over Netflix. It just seemed like the right choice for today. I spent the rest of the day mostly reading, finishing a couple of graphic novels (The Alcoholic by Jonathan Ames and Dean Haspiel, and A.D.: New Orleans After the Deluge by Josh Neufeld, both quite good). I also watched last week’s episode of Community, which I hadn’t seen yet, and the first episode of Quantum Leap, which I haven’t seen in years. It was really just a random, lay-about-the-house kind of day.

That said, I’m really kind of sick of snow at this point, particularly snow that ruins my morning commute. (Enough snow to close my office and keep me home without taking vacation? Well, we can talk.) I’m actually kind of looking forward to going back to work tomorrow. Taking off on Wednesday is just weird.

All aboard!

I spent the weekend in Maryland, celebrating my sister’s 30th birthday, which is later this week. We basically repeated our plans from last year, albeit with a little more success, thanks to somewhat more cooperative weather. My parents and I drove there, then met my sister and her husband for brunch, and then we split up, with my sister and my mother going clothes shopping — my sister’s choice, which would not have been mine — and we three men visiting the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad Museum.

I took some photos there, if you’re interested. It was actually really interesting, although if you visit, I can’t recommend the actual train rides, at least not the version we experienced. It was basically just a slow twenty minute trip out, then back, with not a whole lot to see and just a little old-timey music and narration about the railway to keep you amused. (Then again, we were on the same car as a seven-year-old boy celebrating his birthday, and he seemed to be enjoying it.)

Afterward, we had enough time for the three of us to see The Fighter, in the theater adjoining the restaurant where we had dinner. It’s really quite good, and I think Christian Bale may now be my favorite for this year’s Oscar.

Today, we met for breakfast, then went back to my sister’s house to give her presents. Then we drove home. It was a good weekend, but I’m pretty astounded that it’s over already.